The Long Drive ( Edward Elric Omorashi )
by Eizion
Summary: Ed is stuck in the backseat of Roy's car, in between Winry and Al, and he really needs a bathroom. Will his pride get in the way, or will he make it to a bathroom on time? (( This was a request by an anonymous user. Contains omorashi and fluff ))


How did he get here? Why on earth had he put himself in this situation?

Edward Elric was jammed in the backseat between his brother, Al, and Winry, their childhood friend. (Whom Ed had argued with about her going with them for two hours before they'd left. In the end, she'd won, but only because Al had begged for her to go, and Al had a way of making Ed do things.) Al had gotten his body back six months ago, and Ed had gotten his arm, and he and Al had been working on it ever since. He'd gotten so much of his muscle mass back, and Ed was proud of him. Still, with the way his brother was sleeping with his head resting on just the wrong spot for his already uncomfortably full bladder, he had to admit, he'd felt like throwing him out of the car multiple times.

Roy was driving them up to Central for the week, since the trains were all shut down, and they wanted to see about getting Al a passport to go to Xing when he was well enough. Ed didn't mind at first, even if he was going to be stuck in a car with Winry, Al, Roy, and Riza for thirteen hours.

He was perfectly fine with it for the first few hours. Roy had said they were making scheduled stops, and Ed did not want to get out and pee at the first stop, even though everyone else did. The newly-turned seventeen year old was in the middle of a catnap, and had roared at Al for waking him up. But then he'd been so mad that he'd just rolled over and gone back to sleep. Or tried to. Mustang seemed adamant that he get out to go, because they wouldn't be stopping for another five hours. Ed had stubbornly refused, even though he had to pee just a bit. His stubbornness refused to let him get up.

And he was perfectly fine until two hours later. He hadn't even felt the urge to go until Al had just fallen asleep and rested his head right over the top of Edward's swollen bladder. Ed had crossed his legs immediately, cursing himself for choosing the middle seat. However, he did not want to prove Roy right by asking him to pull over, though the bathroom break was much needed, so he kept his mouth shut and decided to close his eyes and sleep until they got there. He drifted off to the sound of Winry and Riza babbling about Hawkeye's and Mustang's relationship.

He dreamed that he was walking down the street, and he had to pee. Badly. Worse than he'd ever had to go in his entire life. He had to go so bad that he couldn't even walk. So, he did the sensible thing and whipped it out and peed all over the sidewalk. He peed and peed and peed, with no end, and he was starting to get confused. If he had pulled down his pants, why were they feeling wet...?

He woke with a gasp and squeezed his thighs together. His underwear was wet, but only a small spot showed on his brown dress pants, and he panted softly, squeezing his muscles tight to prevent his bladder from releasing itself all over his trousers.

He looked around the car, and it seemed no one had noticed his little outburst. He pushed Al's head off his bladder, wincing as it constricted and he had to cross his legs for all he was worth. He settled Al in a more comfortable position with his head leaned up against the door, and tried to steal a quick grab at his crotch, but he noticed Winry was still awake, and looking at him.

He blushed a bit, glancing away crossly. "What're you staring at?" he muttered, his humiliating situation making him feel like everyone in the car knew his predicament. Still, Winry only smiled at him. He supposed it wasn't too obvious, since the wet spot on his pants was so tiny you'd have to be seriously staring to see it, and his crossed legs could just be seen as him trying to get comfortable. He was taller now, and it was cramped in the backseat.

"Oh, nothing. Just you and Al looked cute, sleeping together like that," she said with a small smile, looking back out the window, and Ed cringed when he saw a stream babbling by. He tensed his muscles up, and then thought of a welcome distraction. Yes! He'd just talk to Winry to get his mind off of it. He could hold his bladder for two and a half hours, no problem. He was fine, so long as she was talking to him. If they talked, he'd be reminded that there were other people in the car – a tall, attractive blonde with blue eyes that he happened to be in love with, actually. He'd just strike up conversation. No big deal. It wouldn't be hard at all.

"Cute, huh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a slight smirk. "You think I'm cute?" This was normal teasing for them nowadays, even though they refused to acknowledge that they were any sort of relationship at all. It was still awkward, though Ed noticed that Winry was the one who would blush in most of their arguments.

Sure enough, her face turned a bit red and she murmured something under her breath before staring out the window again. Ed felt a strong twinge in his bladder and grabbed his crotch swiftly before clearing his throat. "So, uh, I'm assuming that's a yes?" he asked with a small smile, desperate to keep up the conversation. "You know, I think you're cute."

Winry frowned slightly and looked at him, tilting her head to the side. "Really?" she asked skeptically, and Ed looked a bit surprised when she didn't seem to believe him.

"Yes, really," he said, leaning back and trying to look cool. He stole a glance at the clock and realized only five minutes had gone by since he woke up, meaning he still had two hours and twenty five minutes to go. He nearly panicked, but choked it down and reminded himself that he was seventeen, and he could hold it fine. "Actually," he said, bouncing his knee a bit and scooting his butt around on the seat. "Beautiful would be a better word to describe you."

He couldn't have imagined Winry ever blushing that brightly, but it was incredibly cute, and for a moment, Ed forgot his massive need to use the toilet. He smiled as she looked away, hiding her face behind her hair. "Th-thank you," she whispered softly. Then she looked up at him with a small smile. "I think you're really cute, too."

Ed blushed a bit. "Thanks, Win," he murmured, and remembered he had to pee when he felt another spurt leak into his pants when he relaxed too much. He didn't say anything else, just half hunched over, a concentrated look on his face.

Winry frowned deeply, tilting her head. "Edward, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, reaching over to feel his forehead. "Are you going to be sick? Do you need to pull over?"

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Ed said, brushing her hand off swiftly. "No, I don't need to pull over. I'm not sick. I'm fine, everything's fine!" he sang when he saw Roy looking into the backseat. "No, I do not need to pull over. Thank you for your concern," he said, muttering under his breath. He was so regretting that fifty-four ounce Mega Chug soda he'd gotten before they left. It was a bad idea, and Al had even told him he'd need to pee before their next rest stop, but he refused to believe that. He still thought he could hold it, and even if he needed a bathroom, he'd save that last shred of dignity he had and wait. He could wait. He wasn't a child anymore.

"Are you sure?" he heard Roy ask from the front seat. "Because it looks to me like you need a rest stop, Edward. Is that the case?" he asked condescendingly.

Ed was about to snap out a protest when his bladder spasmed and he had to press his hands between his legs, his face going blood red as he realized everyone – other than Al, who was still asleep – was staring right at him with a mix of discomfort and anxiety.

He bit back a growl. "Yes! Yes, I have to pee, okay? Happy now? Can you please pull over?" he asked, cursing when he realized his voice sounded desperate. He knew he wouldn't make it much farther – his pants already had a small dark spot on the crotch, and he had to go very badly. He couldn't remember being this uncomfortable in his life.

Roy looked ahead of him. "Ah, Elric, you had better have some sort of back up plan," he said, and Ed looked over his shoulder to see what he meant by that, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

They were stopped on a four lane highway, with traffic in both directions and on all sides. There wasn't even room to open a door, much less pull over.

Ed felt his stomach do a flip and his face drained of any color it had left. He sat back down, his hands between his legs. Okay, so what? Now everyone knew, and he was free to take whatever measures necessary to contain his bladder, no matter how much it was begging to be emptied.

He would not pee himself like a child in Mustang's car. That simply would not do and would not happen, not in any universe and certainly not in front of Winry. Holding himself was bad enough, and he would do so until they got to a place where they could pull over.

He would hold it. He'd be fine.

He kept telling himself this for a half hour, and by then, he felt as if his insides were being torn to pieces. He had to compare this to his stomach wound in Baschool. Burning, ripping, coiling and clenching. Of course, he was in shock when he had been stabbed, so this felt worse for the time being. He could've sworn he was dying. He'd gone from uncomfortable to in piercing, blinding pain in only thirty minutes. And it didn't help that Roy, Riza and Winry were all three fretting over him. He had cursed at them several times, sweat sliding down his cheeks. Well, he thought it was sweat, until he saw himself in the rearview mirror. He was... crying?

No. He was humiliated enough! He couldn't be crying.

But he was. Tears were leaking down his cheeks, and he could see just why Winry was rubbing his back. He knew it, plain and simple, that he wasn't going to make it out of this car. He was going to pee himself, and soon. No amount of clenching or tightening his muscles or holding himself was going to help his case, and everyone in the car knew it.

He put a hand over his face. It was a sickly combination of ghostly pale, light green, and bright red across his cheeks and ears, and he knew he looked horrible. He felt sick, and he cringed as another little bit slid out, dampening the front of his pants father. By now the wet spot was larger than both his hands, and a hiccup escaped him. Winry cringed and stroked her fingers through his hair comfortingly as he arched his back, pulling up on himself between his legs. His crotch area was glistening wet with urine, and he knew every ounce of the contents of his bladder were going to come out soon. It was just a matter of time, and the traffic was unrelenting.

"I'm trying Ed," Roy said softly when Ed let out a groan. He sounded sympathetic, and Riza kept on looking back at him to see if he was doing okay. He tried to focus on Winry and Winry alone in this situation. Her hand on his back was so comforting, he was tempted to just relax...

He cried out sharply when a strong jet of urine sprayed out of his pants like a fountain, going up into the air and falling to the floor between his feet. It pattered there, and everyone looked at him in shock as he managed to stop it, but it wasn't for long, as more spurts were gushing and pushing themselves out of him. His bladder was acting on its own accord, and he was openly crying. It was hurting so much, and no matter how hard he squeezed or how much he focused, it was coming out. He was having an accident, and his pants were already very wet.

Somewhere in his hazy mind, he knew that Winry and Al would get wet if he sat there and wet himself, but he couldn't unbuckle. The police would pull them over...

"General!" he gasped as pee started to dribble out, squishing underneath him into the seat. He didn't know why he was looking to Roy for help, nor why he was crying so openly in front of Winry. It was the absolute worst moment he could've dreamt. Peeing himself in the backseat of Roy's car, in front of Winry. How on earth could this day get any worse? Oh, yeah. By crying like a baby in front of them. He was sobbing, which was only causing more frequent spurts to come out.

He noticed Winry made a face and looked on in horror as he realized a trickle of yellow liquid was dribbling down underneath her. He couldn't pee on Winry! No, no, no! Without really thinking, he unbuckled his seat belt, turned around and exposed his sopping wet butt to everyone in the vehicle, and worked his way into a crouched position in the tiny backseat. For once in his life, he was grateful for his size. Being smaller meant he could fit there without getting it all over the seats. If Roy had been in a situation like this, he was sure that the General would get pee everywhere.

So he crouched there, knees apart and hands squeezing desperately between his legs as urine dribbled onto the floor. He was impressed that he hadn't wet himself fully yet, but he knew it was inevitable. He would never make it anywhere now. He couldn't even move.

He felt Winry rub his back again and started to cry harder, looking up at her with tear-filled golden eyes, full of shame and embarrassment and pain. "Win..." he started, voice hoarse, and was surprised when a sound started to cut through the silence in the car.

"_PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..._"

"No!" Edward cried as liquid started to spray out of him, similar to a water hose on high. It no longer mattered that he was squeezing his crotch so hard that it hurt, the urine just had a mind of its own, and it was pouring relentlessly all over the carpeted floorboard as he crouched there, still holding himself and trying in vain to stop himself from peeing, but it wasn't working anymore. It just kept coming out, that same pressure jetting through his pants and all over the floor. His thighs and calves felt sticky and wet, and the hot liquid seemed to have no end. It was much like the feeling in his dream he had before, only magnified, and the sound was louder. Edward groaned involuntarily, tears and snot dripping down his face as he peed all over the floor of Mustang's car.

Eventually, it did have an end. It went from a pressure hose, to just gushing, to a sound similar to a water fountain, and then it was dribbling before it finally, finally stopped... but only when the entire backseat was just one big puddle of urine. Everyone was silent, and Ed just crouched there, quaking in relief and looking at the horribly large mess he'd made. It was so humiliating that he wasn't able to enjoy how great it felt to get all of his burden out, and he brought his soaking wet hands up to cover his flushed face. Now that the pressure was gone, he was blood red. No other color marked his face, and tears were still escaping him.

No, he had to stop crying. Swiftly, he dried it up and wrapped his still-dry jacket around his shamefully wet waist area and sat down in his wet seat. "I'm sorry, General," he murmured, his eyes still burning with tears. "I'll clean your car up for you."

Roy chuckled softly. "Don't worry about it, kid, it's a rental," he said gently, and Ed felt arms wrap around his shoulders.

Winry was pulling him down into a laying position, and he complied shakily, laying his head in her lap with a whimpering noise that he didn't even know he could make. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to Winry, not sure why he was apologizing, and she just rubbed his back with a small smile.

"Try and go to sleep," she said soothingly, and he blushed all over again as she kissed his cheek. But still, she was so comfortable and warm that he couldn't help it. He closed his eyes and started to drift off, feeling absolutely relieved and much better now that he had Winry to help him through it.

Maybe bringing her along wasn't such a bad idea after all.


End file.
